Acrid
by emziiz
Summary: After a prototype for a prank goes horribly wrong, will Hermione ever be able to smell anything pleasant again? (Please don't be put off by the summary, I suck at them!) Written for the Harry Potter Forum's OTP 50 challenge. ONESHOT


**+OTP 50 - Acrid (1) Fred/Hermione**

**Hello everyone. This is just a quick oneshot for the Harry Potter Forum's OTP 50. It is based off the word 'acrid' and it is Fred/Hermione (in case you didn't get that). I wrote it in the middle of writing my multi-chapter fic named Getting A Weasley's Attention (also Fred/Hermione) which I am shamelessly plugging. So if you enjoy this fic please check it out and I hope you enjoy!**

_BOOM._

As soon as I hear it, I'm out of my chair, racing towards the Weasley twins in a somewhat dark corner of the common room.

"Just what do you think you lot are doing?!" I yell as I see a heavy fog of dark green smoke rising from the centre of a cluttered desk, Dennis Creevey sitting in a chair to its side, violently gasping for air. As I'm about to ask what the twins did to him, I smell it. Faint at first, but when I make the mistake of breathing deeply through my nose, I know something is wrong.

Terribly wrong.

It smells putrid, like a piece of meat left in the sun for days. As soon as I stop trying to heave up my dinner, I notice George leading Dennis out of the portrait hole, into the sweet fresh air of which I yearn to have. But I'm stuck in here, my feet weighed down by the fact that I know taking a small step will result in me throwing my guts up. Realising I've been holding on tightly to Fred's shoulder the whole time, I instantly let go.

"C'mon, I'll take you to the Hospital Wing." He says as he grasps my hand, trying to look reassuring. The kind gesture doesn't help though and I shake my head. All I can think about is that horrible smell seeping into my robes, my clothes, my _skin._ I'll never be clean again.

"Hermione, we need to get out of here. We don't even need to go to the Hospital Wing, just outside the common room will be fine! I really like your shoes, and I'm afraid I'm going to throw up on them if we don't leave _right now._" He begs me, pleading me with his eyes to go with him.

As I try my darnedest to hold in a breath, I watch as everyone tries to make it through the portrait hole at the same time, as if the acrid smell was acting like a farm dog herding a flock of sheep into their pen.

"I don't think..." I gasp, trying to cover my nose from the stench of burnt hair. "...that I can make it out alive."

"Didn't take you for the melodramatic type. Oh well." He says casually as he picks me up. I have the sudden urge to cry out in shock when he holds the backs of my knees up with one arm and the other around my armpits, but when he holds me closer to his chest I stop myself. As he starts to make his way to the portrait hole - me still in his arms - I have no choice but to wrap my arm around his neck; if I don't, I fall.

"Almost...there..." He trails off, obviously disgusted by having to breathe in the horrible odour now spread throughout the whole common room. I have so many questions I want the answers to, such as "What the hell were you trying to make?" or maybe just a quick "Are you insane?!"; but I'm too afraid to take another breath.

Finally making it out the door, I see the last group of Gryffindors turning left down a hallway, leaving us all alone in the somewhat fresh corridor. As I sigh in relief of being out of that godforsaken room and breathe in the delicious clean air, Fred slams the portrait shut, causing the Fat Lady to cry out in shock. Ignoring her, he puts me down and as soon as I am sure I won't up throw up, I let him have it.

"What the _hell_ do you think you were doing in there?!" Did you ever stop to consider that someone might get hurt? Honestly, I'm surprised that you two are still able to attend Hogwarts. Why did you even make something that smelt like burnt hair?"

"Burnt hair, ey? Wish I'd remembered to bring out the notebook. Tell me, did it smell like anything else to you?"

"At the start it smelt like rotten fl- hey! Answer the question!" I cry as I hit him with the hand not around his neck. When both of us realise I am still in his arms, he drops me onto the ground instantly but carefully, as if I'm a worthless vase.

We stare at each other for a moment, not really knowing what to say. I felt a rush of warmth when he first picked me up, but I thought it was just related to the prospect of getting out of that horrid smelling room. But as soon as his hand left mine just now, I felt a sense of...loneliness? I feel void? He was pretty strong as far as I could tell with my head tucked neatly into his chest. He was gentle too. Maybe I just feel upset that a good thing came to an end.

"Well;" he says after he clears his throat. "which question first?"

I look at him for a moment, completely forgetting the warm fuzzy feeling I just discovered. Was he seriously that bonkers?

"Which question do you think would be first, Fred?" I ask sarcastically.

"I'm George."

"George left with Dennis."

"No, _Fred_ left with Mini Creeves. By the way. Where has everyone gotten to?" he says, trying to distract me. Again.

"Fred, seriously. What the hell do you think you were doing in there?" I ask with my hands on my hips and getting angrier by the minute.

A small smile graces his freckled face as he cocks his head slightly to the side. "You look just like Mom with your hands on your hips."

"_Fred!" _I yell, not caring that the Fat Lady is yelling at me to be quiet.

"Fine! We were trying out a new product, sort of like a love potion, y'know?" he asks as he wiggles his eyebrows. Rolling my eyes in impatience, I wait for him to proceed.

He clears his throat again. "Yes, well, we were experimenting with the mechanics of a love potion, like how it smells like whatever the victim- I mean user finds attractive. Trying to duplicate it, maybe. I dunno, we were just toying around with it for a bit. Then George, being the smart one, suggested we make a potion that repels people from you, maybe to use as a perfume or something. We'd already tested it on ourselves and it was fine, so we gave it to Mini Creeves to test. Then he knocked the bottle over and...well you know the rest." He finishes quickly, as if hoping it would reduce the amount of trouble he was in. Tough nuts for him.

"So what you're saying is, it's safe to put on skin, but if it touches any other surface or material, it-"

"Blows up?" he answers for me. "Apparently so, but you gotta remember, it was a test. In fact, I'm quite happy he knocked it over, because I never would have noticed that it would char a whole desk with just a few drops. You live and you learn, right?"

"Why couldn't you just start with something basic and _then _move on to the more dangerous stuff?" I ask, trying to keep my cool. Fortunately, it works.

"What do you suggest we make? Got any ideas?" he asks rhetorically. For a few moments I try my darnest to think of an idea just to prove I'm not just booksmart like everyone says. Thinking back on what he's already said, I think on the spot.

"What about...something to make you unattractive to someone, but more like...scratch that; how about something to make you unattractive?" I say excitedly, suddenly intrigued by the idea of inventing a new potion, even if it is to be sold as a joke.

"Go on..." he says, encouraging me as he sits cross-legged in the middle of a hallway. Enthusiastically, I join him, not even noticing that I'm wearing a skirt and that the stone floors are colder than the snow of the past month.

"Well, I can only guess that the aim of the potion is to get whatever person you want away from you to stay away from you, correct?" I continue after a quick nod. "Well, what if you made yourself really unattractive to someone, like an ex that keeps begging you to take them back? According to what I hear in my dorm _every_ _single night_, it would be like an instant repellent for a boy if he was starting to get annoyed with too much attention." I say, losing confidence with every sentence. Judging by the blank look on his face, I can tell the he thinks that it's a stupid suggestion.

After another few uncomfortable moments, the expressionless look haunting his eyes abruptly changes to a mischievous spark, and I can't help but wonder what I've gotten myself into now.

"If we charmed it to make sure only the targeted person could see the effects of the potion, it would be a hit. Hermione, if we got around to selling this stuff, you would be rich!" He says, barely able to contain his glee as he wraps his solid arms around me in a bear hug.

_**I **__would be rich? _I think. Then I catch up with his train of thought, understanding that he thinks I would be taking the profits for my idea. "Fred, I don't want any money for it. It was your idea, I just helped you get back on your feet." I try to reason with him, but to no avail. My voice was caught in his shirt and I don't think he heard me.

Pulling my face out of his shirt for the second time this evening, I smile at him and gently repeat what I just said. He looks like he wants to argue against my decision of not taking their money, but something on my face must have old him it would be a bad idea.

"So what did it smell like to you?" I ask as we disentangle ourselves from the awkward position on the floor. After staring blankly at me for a few seconds, I clarify.

"Your potion that exploded everywhere. In the common room? Made people run for the exit? Remembering anything yet?" I ask.

"Oh, right! It smelled like..." he stops as he involuntarily shudders at the memory.

"Smelled like what?"

"It smelled like Ron."

**Please R&R and check out Getting A Wealsey's Attention! **


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